Shooting Stars
by MissHaunted-MoonLight
Summary: 'I could really use a wish, right about now.' Missing scene. Spoilers for the Final Episode.


**Shooting Stars  
by  
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx

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**Title:** Shooting Stars  
**Fandom:** Alan Wake  
**Rating:** T**  
Summary:** '_I could really use a wish, right about now._'  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Thank Microsoft Game Studios and Remedy Entertainment.**  
Author's Note:** M'kay, so I've completed the game and loved the story. And I simply _couldn't resist_ tapping into the world of fanfic for it. So let's see what happens …

Spoilers for events in the last episode! Rated for language, and just because it's a dark game. Oh, and … well, I've slightly altered things, but not by much. Wonder if anyone will notice …

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**Shooting Stars**

Not even a moment ago, there had been stars illuminating the night sky above.

Those gleaming orbs had provided him with a safety net, had grounded his thoughts, kept him moving on and on through the forest without once having the urge to glance back at the way he had come. After all, there was no point. Every step he took was a step away from reality as he knew it, and he didn't much want to think about what he was giving up even if it _was_ the only way to save Alice.

But between existing in a world of darkness _without _her, or drifting through a world of darkness where _she_ at least would be safe in the light … well, there really was _no_ contest, was there? He had assured himself as much while the stars twinkled overhead, the moonlight gently guiding him through the gloom, his only friend.

And then the stars went out. One by one, as though somebody was turning off a light switch, plunging the sky above into an all-consuming blackness that leached across the landscape, devouring everything in sight. Within _seconds, _the starlight and the moonlight were gone. Wake made quick work of replacing them with a dim but constant torchlight, pulling the lifesaving tool from his pocket as he pressed on, his wobbling legs carrying him ever deeper into the looming forest.

Suddenly feeling inexplicably anxious, Wake tapped absently at the flare gun in his breast pocket, reassuring himself that it was still there. The weight of it against his heart was a comforting one – it was a talisman, a source of strength and power, and _light_, whilst he himself was drowning in a sea of blackness.

Living out a nightmare that he couldn't wake up from.

'_I could _really_ use a wish, right about now,_' he thought, sadly, glancing up at the starless void above him. It was an empty and unforgiving pit of blackness that stretched out for miles and miles overhead, no end in sight, blending in perfectly with the shadowed treetops. He raised the flashlight's beam skywards, inwardly hoping it would catch the soaring tail of a falling star, one that he could wish upon, like heroes do in fairytales.

But this story was no fairytale. There could be no happy endings, not for him, not this time.

Through the canopy of old oaks, for one heart-wrenching moment - as he dejectedly brought the flashlight's ray back down to ground level - he could almost imagine he saw a shooting star whizz overhead in the general direction of Cauldron Lake. He glanced up, eager, wide-eyed, searching …

But then he realized; '_Starless, stupid. How are you going to see a shooting star when there are no stars up there to be seen? You really are an idiot, Wake.'_ He could feel the tears, hot and fresh, stinging at the corners of his eyes. The beam from the flashlight trembled erratically, keeping perfect time with his shaking hands, as it tried to slice through the blackness around him. A veil of thick, heavy fog had smothered the landscape, consuming everything in sight during the millisecond it had taken him to blink the tears away.

An intense wave of claustrophobia settled into the pit of his stomach as the acrid air seemed to press down on him from above, hard, choking him, sealing him tight into his waking nightmare, cutting off any hopes of escape. Perhaps if he turned back, returned to the safety and comfort of the Well-Lit Room … returned to Barry and Sarah who would no-doubtedly be overjoyed to see him again …

But no, he couldn't do that.

Who would save Alice, if he chickened out now?

Oh, Alice. Ensnared by the _one thing_ in the world that terrified her, trapped and alone and desperate for a help that would never come, unless he himself did the unthinkable …

Wake shivered, his chest tightening and his vision blurring, the biting cold of the chilly night air piercing the exposed flesh on his face and hands. A loud buzzing sound began to ring in his ears, and he knew all too well what it meant.

"Shit," he murmured, paling dangerously.

As if on cue, the fog thickened, mist swirling about his ankles as the darkness intensified, growing - if possible – a shade darker. But he was close, now. The Dark Presence knew what he was doing. And he knew the Taken wouldn't attack him this time. It _wanted_ him to reach Cauldron Lake. It _needed_ him to finish what he'd started in the week that never was …

As expected, the creatures emerged on all sides, peeling effortlessly away from the dark shadows that cloaked them, reveling in the pitch-blackness as they accompanied him through the remainder of the forest, right to the very edge of the cliff-face overlooking Cauldron Lake. He stopped at the precipice. They stopped, too. Flanking him. Surrounding him.

'_No going back now._'

He glanced back at them, noted their eager, hungry expressions and the twitchiness of their groping, dead fingers. Sighing heavily, he dropped his gaze and turned away, reaching into his pockets, first to retrieve the flare gun, and then a second time to grab the key that would free Alice from her dark, terrifying prison.

The Clicker.

'_With the Clicker firmly in his hand, Alan finally slept like a baby, safe from harm. Now, almost thirty years later, Alan thought of this, as he stood on the rim of Cauldron Lake, the Clicker in his hand. He took a deep breath, and jumped._'

So this was it. The moment he, and indeed, Thomas Zane, had been waiting for. _Living_ for. All this time, all their hard work, all those scripts, leading to one life-changing and prewritten moment…

For a few seconds, as he stood swaying on the edge of the steep cliff, overlooking the dark abyss that was Alice's prison, he paused and listened _really_ carefully, straining to block out the horrible buzzing sounds associated with the Dark Presence and instead focus on something else. Another sound, buried deep within his mind, just below the level of conscious acknowledgement. As his ears adjusted and his mind focused, he could clearly make out the gentle echo of nimble fingers typing away at that old, worn typewriter with its sticking J-key; the one he'd owned for such a large portion of his short life. The sound he could never mistake, for it had long been engraved into his memory.

Wake tried to slow down his racing heart and gripped the flare gun tightly, mentally _willing _his trembling fingers to steady themselves. With his face set and his mind now devoid of all unnecessary thought, Wake gently raised the loaded flare gun and pointed it skyward. He hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then pulled the trigger and reloaded.

Bright, _beautiful_ light penetrated the darkness, illuminating the scene and revealing to him the ravenous current of the swirling black depths below. The Taken around him retreated as one, hissing and spitting and _screaming_ as they pushed and shoved their way clear of its brilliance, frantically seeking out the cover of darkness. But Wake reveled in the flare's basking glow, breathing the light in as a dying man would inhale that final gasp of oxygen.

The red beam slowly sank through the sky, turning the horizon a musky pinkish hue. Tiny white specks soared joyously through the blackness, and this time, Wake let himself believe they were shooting stars – they looked just like them as they shot through the air like bullets. He closed his eyes, a tiny, hopeful smile spreading across his features.

"I wish for Alice to be safe," he breathed softly, _desperately_, squeezing the Clicker tightly in his right hand. "I wish for the light to protect her, wish it could bring her home."

The words floated away over the Lake and were absorbed by the hanging red light above him.

Without opening his eyes, no longer caring what happened next, Alan Wake took a deep breath... and jumped.

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**There we go! Hope it wasn't too bad. I'm tempted to leave this as a one-shot, 'cause it kind of leads on to that final scene in the game. But I'm curious to know what you guys think. Should it be continued?**

**Anyway, cheers! If you have a moment to illuminate my otherwise dark and depressing world, drop us a review. But in the mean time, thanks for reading!**

**Blessed Be!  
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx**


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